


ruby red

by cleardishwashers



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018), Ocean's Eleven Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleardishwashers/pseuds/cleardishwashers
Summary: two ambulance rides, seven years apart(the tags and the summary make this seem super angsty it's not i promise)
Relationships: Danny Ocean/Rusty Ryan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	ruby red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShadyDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadyDragon/gifts).



Danny looks down, at the garnet-red stains on the gleaming white floor. He looks up, at the hole that said garnet is gushing from. Someone is yelling, and the monitor is beeping, and he’s supposed to be an EMT but  _ posing _ as one is a lot different than  _ being _ one, and apparently  _ being _ one entails sticking your gloved hand over a literal bullet wound.

He’s not one to be easily grossed out-- hell, the last scam he’d thought of involved tricking rich NYU students into puking their guts out so he could rob them blind-- but there’s something about holding a life in one’s hand that really makes every squishy thing in a body seem ten times nastier.

“Switch out the gauze,” one of the EMTs (one of the  _ real _ EMTs) yells. “Andy, move!”

Oh. Right. He’s Andy today.

He takes the proffered pad, yanks the blood-soaked  _ (already? _ he wonders) one away, and slams the clean one against the man’s side.  _ Maintain pressure, _ he thinks distantly.  _ Maintain pressure. _

They get to the hospital, and Danny lifts the ruby necklace from the bleeding man’s pocket as the other two EMTs lift the man out. Danny stuffs it into his jacket, and he ignores the stains on his clothes.

Seven years later, he’s in the ambulance again. Just not an EMT, this time.

“I’m going with him!” Danny yells, pushing his way past the cops (it’s risky, it’s so very risky, even being in their  _ eyeline _ is risky, but he has to go with him). His heart is hammering. He thinks he’s puked, at some point. He wouldn’t be surprised. “Hey. Hey. Rusty. Rus,” Danny says to the man on the stretcher. Rusty’s eyes are fluttering closed. Danny snatches up Rusty’s hand; it’s cold. A similar coldness, smeared with hysteria, spikes through Danny’s heart. “Hey. Rus, look at me, c’mon, buddy.”

Rusty looks up, meeting Danny’s gaze for just a second. Danny almost thinks that he’s going to say something, something that could constitute his last words.

Rusty does something even worse: he winks. Danny  _ swears _ he winks.

The ambulance doors slam shut, and Rusty sits up. “You got ‘em, right?”

_ “What?” _ Danny says. His voice is floating away from him; all he can focus on is Rusty’s face. Rusty’s face, which is painted with a cocky grin. Rusty’s face, which, ten minutes ago, Danny thought was going to go slack for good.  _ Squibs, _ Danny thinks to himself.  _ Squibs, and a fake gun, and-- _ Danny whips around, to face the EMTs. “Fakers,” he accuses, his voice quavering with relief.

Debbie grins at him; seeing his own grin on his sister’s face is still disconcerting, even after all these years. “You really didn’t notice?” she asks.

“I was  _ worried,” _ he protests.

Basher turns around, the caduceus on his jacket sewn through with pink thread.  _ How did you miss that? _ Danny asks himself. “He puked,” Basher tells Rusty.

“I hate you all,” says Danny.

“Why’d you puke, then?” asks Rusty. His hand snakes into Danny’s inside pocket (the gesture is so obvious, yet still carries so much finesse, and it’s only then that Danny relaxes) and pulls out a string of diamonds, dripping with the fluorescent ambulance lights. They’re out of place, but then again, all of them are. They’re criminals, not lifesavers.

“Are we stealing this ambulance?” Danny asks.

Linus-- of course he’s driving, the bastard-- pokes his head into the cabin. “Are you okay with that?”

They all look at him. He doesn’t want to  _ say _ it-- he’s the leader, and the last thing his father had done was beat it into him that leaders Do Not Show Weakness. But, y’know. Ambulances are expensive, and so are EMTs, and they already have a hundred million in diamonds.

“Bring it back to the depot. We got a car there,” Rusty says, cutting through Danny’s thoughts. Linus salutes (has he been looking back at them the entire time? God, it’s a miracle any of them are still alive), and nobody mentions that going back for the car would be foolhardy, possibly idiotic; this is why Danny likes them.

At 3:57 in the morning, Linus falls asleep at the wheel, swerving into the opposite lane. Danny half-screams, and Linus wakes up, and Rusty insists on driving from then on. Danny offers to take the wheel. Rusty ignores him.

By 4:16 in the morning, Linus, Basher, and Debbie are all asleep in the backseat. Linus’s head is pillowed on Basher’s lap, Basher is leaning on Debbie’s shoulder, and Debbie is manspreading, her head tipped back as she snores. Danny is wide awake, curled up in the passenger seat, staring at Rusty.

The moonlight throws his tan skin into high contrast, and the streetlights speeding by make his eyes and hair and lashes look golden. His fingers drum on the wheel, tapping to a song that Danny  _ knows _ is Queen. “You should know Bohemian Rhapsody,” Rusty chastises.

“You got shot,” Danny counters. “I feel like that’s a good reason to not know.”

Rusty throws a half-second glance towards Danny. “I’m sorry,” he says.  _ I’m glad you care, _ goes unsaid.

“When I was younger, I didn’t think I could. About anyone. Except Debbie, but she doesn’t count.”

Rusty takes a real look this time, and thank God the road is straight or Danny would’ve had a heart attack. “Why?”

Danny shrugs. “I hadn’t met you, I guess. Or any of them.”

“You know, you’re supposed to do stupid things like fall in love too fast when you’re in your twenties.”

“I’ve always been extraordinary.”

The corner of Rusty’s lips turn up, and he takes one hand off the steering wheel and places it, palm-up, on top of the cupholders.

It’s calloused. The nails are overgroomed (even though they’re out of view, Danny knows). The fingers are long, tapered, the type that’ll fix your lapel and steal your wallet at the same time.

Danny covers it with his own palm and links their fingers together. They fit. Danny knew they’d fit, just like he knew that the diamonds would be unguarded and the man from seven years ago would live. “You got shot,” he repeats.

“I won’t do it again,” Rusty promises.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! my tumblr is the same as my ao3, hmu if you are also a slut for danny/rusty!


End file.
